


The Hawkes

by TheOneAndOnlyNemesium



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Brother-Sister Relationships, Family Dynamics, Family Feels, Gen, Humor, Mage Hawke (Dragon Age), Minor Fenris/Female Hawke (Dragon Age), Post-Canon, Purple Hawke (Dragon Age), Siblings, Warden Carver Hawke
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:14:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25728760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheOneAndOnlyNemesium/pseuds/TheOneAndOnlyNemesium
Summary: The history of two siblings, trying their best and worst to learn how to co-exist together while having different lifepaths - and still, for some reason, caring for each other.To Hawke siblings, who are just my favorite badass family in whole Thedas.
Relationships: Carver Hawke & Female Hawke, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Kudos: 3





	1. The Only Way

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to comment on any mistakes you find ;)

_I’m here if you need me, but I must find my own way._

When she smiled and walked away, Carver felt how air around him trembled, like before a thunderstorm. That happened a lot back home, in Lothering, when all of Hawke-mages were in one room together: studying, laughing or crying... He could _feel_ their magic. Father told him that it’s because of a shared bloodline, but Carver always thought, that it’s because of how better they felt themselves around each other. Around their kind, those, who could understand.

It was a lot more painful to feel the connection because of that.

But father and Bethany are gone. Deep down Carver wants to feel happy about how lonely his older sister should be now, just like him… but he can’t. It’s Garnet’s face before his eyes, with a smile, painful smile, and her voice without a usual chuckle.

_You’re right._

He’s not sure about that. He’s not sure about anything, and it pisses him off. Everything pisses him off: Bethany’s corpse, buried under rocks in destroyed and soiled Ferelden, their shack in dirty and strange Kirkwall, Amell’s estate, property of those who are total strangers to him and who absolutely didn’t care, no matter what Gamlen says. It just seems like everything is going the only way, and no one cares about his life, _his_ choice, and Garnet doesn’t care either.

But she cares. And he knows that. Always knew. And he hates himself for what he said.

Walking home from the Lirene’s Imports, Carver really hopes to get into a fight. It doesn’t matter with whom, just the more the better. He wants to kick some asses - and he wants his ass get kicked. Both outcomes will clear his mind, for sure. Maybe he will even break some bones and then have to go to Anders. Right now even an endless rant about mages been suppressed by templars is better than silence.

However, even choosing dark and forgotten crannies of Lowtown didn’t help. Gamlen’s house is getting closer and closer, and the only sound around is distant seagull squawking. Streets of Kirkwall are empty. Silent. Like the whole city is judging him.

_I’d change all of that if I could. But we don’t have that option. And you know it._

\- Fuck you!

\- Future nobleman should curse only in Orlesian, Carver.

Flickering lights of Alienage make a figure in front of him unnoticeable at first sight. Hawke is sitting on the broken fence with her feet dangled over the edge. Her staff is lying next to her. It would be weird to see a weapon tossed like that at night, if there wasn’t a bottle in Garnet’s hand. She takes a huge sip.

He freezes in place like something is holding him. All the anger, boiling inside, is suddenly gone after his scream, and there is only… emptiness that’s left. He wants to say something back, something mean, but nothing comes to mind.

\- Are you coming home?

“Depends on you”, the answer should be, but instead Garnet just shrugs her shoulders and looks at the bottle, shacking it a little.

\- No way until I’m done with this ambrosia. I know Gamlen is dog on a scent for such things. It will be easier to hear his nagging about a smell than to hide a bottle.

She doesn’t sound drunk, but anyway it’s disturbing to see her sitting like that on the edge. Carver didn’t notice how his feet made a few steps forward and how now he stands closer to her. Even after he was expecting to feel electricity in the air again. Or to get a fireball in his face. But nothing happens. Sister doesn’t even turn her face to him and silently hands him a bottle. He takes a sip, and a strong alcohol scent kicks in his nose. It's probably more complex, but liquid is burning in Carver’s throat, and it's everything he can think about. Maybe that’s the fireball. After this thought he takes another sip and coughs.

\- Maker’s breath, what’s this?!

\- No idea. That’s why I bought it. - Garnet grins. - Today is a day of surprises.

There is a sort of laughing in her voice, but Carver doesn’t find it funny. He is in pain and scared. He watches Hawke silently, looking for any signs of hate on her face, but there is nothing. He isn’t sure if it’s good or even worse. Anger isn’t coming back, and burning liquid inside him is getting colder and colder, twisting his stomach.

For sure, she will say something more right now. Like that his is a moron, that he used Bethany as a cover, that they’re trying their best to survive and he’s still not satisfied, that she _hates_ him, her little brother, who’s always whining and getting in the way, unable to be happy even about small things, _Hawke_ , who’s besmirching his own name, and all of this after a perfect life is almost within reach. He’s ready. It will be easier that way. He will get angry again, and they will hate each all the way to the Deep Roads, and then they won’t get the estate, and everything will get back on track again. He’ll return to Meeran because there’s nowhere else he can go, while his sister will be roaming Kirkwall with a bloody grin on her face. He doesn’t care. It’s easier like that than to love and wait to be loved in return. He will be alone forever, and that will be his own way.

Pain and tension are flashing in the back of his mind, but Carver ignores them because he _doesn’t care_ , until he feels a touch on his hand. Hawke looks at him while squeezing his wrist, gently but tangibly. He doesn’t want to look back and lowers his head, seeing a top of a bottle, clenched in his own hand, while his nails are painfully digging in a palm of the other.

\- I know, that drink is shit as hell, but the bottle didn’t do anything wrong, - he hears Garnet’s voice, low and empty, and something snaps inside him.

\- I know I’m an ass! Stop! You don’t have to…

\- Carver.

He sees Hawke’s other hand, and there is a sovereign in it.

\- I sold those amulets we found in mines. Not much of a profit, but we are still a little closer to the Deep Roads. I’d never thought I would say that with…

Garnet makes a deep breath and swallows. Carver knows his sister well enough to assume that was a beginning of a joke, but today is a day of surprises indeed. There is a silence between them, and he almost can hear how the morning fight goes on repeat in their heads. He almost regrets his own existence.

\- I don’t know what will be after all of that. But I’m sure a fine estate without slave traders and rats is a nice place to start a new path. No matter what kind of path will it be.

Sister’s hands are out of his sight, and she bends to pick her staff. A few sparkles appear in the air when she touches it, and Carver feels like Kirkwall becomes fresh and clean for a moment.

\- Or we’ll get kicked out of the city. An apostate and a mercenary aren’t a great nobleman material.

When she looks at him again, he sees a grin on her face, and Carver understands, how much he _cares._

\- We’ve got the best from our parents: irresistible charm and nice demeanor. No one will notice corpses around.

He is surprised to hear his own chuckle, and fear and pain start to melt away.


	2. True Name

\- And what does your name mean?

Hawke was expecting anything except for this question.

She noticed before, how suddenly her brother began to toss and turn, and it meant that the little night chat about nothing was coming soon. Nor she, nor Carver were a skillful sleepers, and both had their personal range of horror dreams. They never discussed them, and Garnet understood, why. Days were already an endless sequence of fights, suspicious tasks and solving other people’s problems. But some nights still belonged only to them. It would be stupid to use such precious time for opening old wounds. Maybe one day they’ll look back and understand, that it would be easier to deal with such mess together… But not now.

That’s why she was waiting, while cleaning her staff’s blade with a cloth from someone’s destroyed armor, for Carver to give up and start talking to the only real person in the room. But such question was still surprising.

\- Really?

Carver’s face with annoyed expression shows for a second in a pale candle’s light.

\- Listen, I know that you were a star in our family from your first breath, but still it’s not enough to compare you to a gemstone.

Corners of Hawke’s mouth rise up a little, and she looks at her reflection in a polished metal. There’s really nothing in her appearance that should inspire thoughts about red gemstones. Of course, she heard a lot of compliments in her life, but all of them were as much real as was the profit of dealing with her on good terms. In every way.

\- I have no idea, I basically wasn’t even there, - she chuckles finally and holds the staff in front of her, checking it. - Anyway, special thanks, because, except for our friendly family, Elegant is the only one who calls me by my name.

“It’s actually interesting. Elegant and Garnet… Elegant Garnet. Sounds like it’s ready to be opened and become a business rival of Blooming Rose in a month”.

There’s a loud rustling from the bed’s side, then a bang and a cursing. After rubbing the back of his head, Carver sits on the floor. He looks sleepy, disheveled, with his blue eyes trying to pull of a frown while being almost closed. Blanket is covering his back, but he doesn’t seem to be bothered at all. Seeing him in the corner of her eye, Hawke feels how her own eyes are starting to close.

\- Gamlen doesn’t call you by name, - Carver yawns and stretches his long legs.

\- That’s probably because it reminds him of how he can’t sell us the second time and still keep the price up.

Garnet feels a small hint of pride, when she hears a short laugh. Actually, this whole conversation reminds her about how Carver was really grateful for the gift. Father’s letters were a great surprise by themselves, but especially because how significant they were even after all these years. While thinking about that templar, Hawke realizes how actually it makes a perfect sense. She hopes that her little brother understands that too.

But her name… She really never thought about it and never asked. She was a curious person - even too curious, according to some people, but she never saw “Garnet” as something meaningful. Maybe, that was mother’s idea, sort of a note to her past, or maybe father just liked the sound of it. Gar-net. Tough, cool, can be pronounced very… spicy. That was all she needed.

\- You really don’t care about being called by _our_ family name?

“And here we go again”.

Nothing catastrophic, actually. Garnet knows her brother well enough to recognize signs of him getting his fur up. It’s not the case. That’s why she puts her staff away and starts to slowly wipe her hands with the same cloth. No matter how much her body wants to relax, she’s not ready for a new night opera about all her mistakes yet. And, frankly speaking, she likes to chat with Carver. She likes to mess with him more, but these almost normal family conversations have something in them too.

\- I know someone who cares.

\- Me.

\- I think that’s just because we look too similar.

Carver looks at her sandy curly hair with a huge skepticism in his eyes.

\- Absolutely.

Grin on Hawke’s face grows wider, and she folds a few of her curls in a sort of a beard.

\- All humans look the same…

\- Oh, grow up! - Carver sights, but she knows that was hilarious.

It’s true that they share a lot of features - probably more than both can agree on. Pale skin from Amell’s noble blood or father’s northern origin. Bright, cold blue eyes - the first thing to notice in their appearances. Their glances are usually different, but there is always something very similar they share. 

Feeling like her duty of a great night companion is fulfilled, Garnet stands up and blows out the candle, leaving the room completely dark. It’s not a problem. She already knows the right path to bed, so in a few moments she finds herself on a straw pillow and closes her eyes. On the bed’s lower level Carver is rustling again, unsuccessfully trying to find a comfortable pose. When it’s finally quiet, Garnet relaxes and lets her mind to fall into Fade’s embrace. Before it absorbs her completely, she hears brother’s lowered voice.

\- I’m sure it means something.

After a couple of years, holding a Key with a huge red garnet on top, Hawke remembers that night talk. She looks at the gemstone and thinks about how fucking weird her life is most of the time, and how it gets weirder and weirder every new day. In a way, now it really _makes sense_.

Carver watches her and shakes his head, while Anders and Varric are trying to guess when they all will have to leave Vimmark Wasteland screaming and cursing everything on their way.

\- You know… Hawke it be.


End file.
